


Always Be My Baby

by skintightsocks



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-01
Updated: 2011-07-01
Packaged: 2017-10-21 16:29:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/227255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skintightsocks/pseuds/skintightsocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Then Blaine met Kurt, and the nicknames started happening whether he liked them or not. AKA: Blaine (Warbler) Anderson's nicknames, for better and for worse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always Be My Baby

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the song 'Always Be My Baby' by Mariah Carey.

Blaine's never been very big on nicknames. His mom had called him pumpkin a few times when he was younger but it never really stuck, and his father is very much not the nickname type. Once he got into school any nicknames he earned were less than complimentary, and by the time he got to Dalton he'd pretty much given up on the idea. Although Thad had called him 'chap' for a solid month before Blaine politely asked him not to.

And then he met Kurt, and the nicknames started happening whether he liked them or not.

  
 **1\. Blaine Warbler**

Blaine actually doesn't exactly remember how the Blaine Warbler thing started. Whenever he asks Kurt, Kurt just glares at him and mumbles something under his breath about Rachel and wine coolers, so that isn't much help. All he does know is that now pretty much all of New Directions calls him Blaine Warbler.

He's not entirely sure if most of them realize he has an actual last name.

  
 **2\. Little Dude**

At first, Blaine finds it cute. He's still a bit awkward around Kurt's family and any kind of acceptance feels like a victory, so when Finn first starts clapping him on the back and ruffling his hair and calling him 'little dude,' Blaine just grins up at him happily and goes with it. Finn's cool and has good opinions on football teams, so when Blaine tells Finn he's thinking about trying out for the team at McKinley, he isn't expecting Finn to laugh so hard he falls off of the couch.

"Just how funny was that knock-knock joke?" Kurt asks with an eyebrow raised when he walks into the living room a minute later. Blaine still has his arms crossed over his chest, glaring down at Finn.

"I said I wanted to try out for the football team," Blaine mumbles, and Finn breaks out into fresh peals of laughter. Kurt's mouth snaps shut.

"Oh, I see. Finn, stop it, you're going to knock over a lamp."

"Sorry, _sorry_ , little dude," Finn says when he sits up, looking over at Blaine. "You know I'll totally support you. Kurt here made the team. Remember that, Kurt?"

"Of course I do," Kurt huffs, sitting down next to Blaine. "I saved their hopeless asses with my superior kicking abilities."

"He played _Single Ladies_ and kicked far," Finn translates.

"I could do that," Blaine says.

"I know you could, sweetie," Kurt says, patting him on the arm. Blaine knows Kurt's just humoring him, but dammit, he _could_. He loves _Single Ladies_.

"I was MVP two years in a row in my peewee league," Blaine says.

"Heh," Finn laughs. "Peewee."

" _Finn_ ," Kurt snaps, reaching around Blaine to smack Finn in the back of the head.

"What?" Finn shrugs. "It was funny."

"You don't make fun of Rachel for being so short," Kurt points out, resting his hand on Blaine's leg until Blaine gratefully links his fingers with Kurt's.

"Yeah, but I'm dating Rachel, so it's kind of hot that she's a lot smaller than me. I'm not dating Blaine. No offense, little dude."

"None taken," Blaine mumbles.

"Well what if you _were_ dating Blaine?" Kurt continues, ignoring both Blaine and Finn's confused looks. "Would you still make fun of him for being short then?"

"Probably... not," Finn says slowly, his face screwed up like he's really thinking about it. After a few seconds he looks right at Blaine and then starts to turn red, getting up to leave the room. "Uh, yeah, sorry about that, little du-- Blaine. I'm just gonna--" Finn leaves quickly and Kurt turns back to Blaine with a look of triumph on his face.

"Feel better?" Kurt asks, tilting his head onto Blaine's shoulder and batting his eyelashes up at him.

"I think you just made your brother think about having sex with me," Blaine says shortly.

"Well, yes, but now he's much less likely to make fun of your perfectly average height," Kurt says, leaning in and kissing him softly.

"Oh Kurt," Blaine says, as deadpan as possible, "I've always dreamed of the day someone would look deep into my eyes and call me perfectly average!"

"You're welcome," Kurt says, smirking at him. "Besides, don't worry about it. You may be of average height," he continues, sparing a quick glance to the hallway and then throwing a leg over Blaine's and settling down into his lap, "but you are truly exceptional in other areas."

"Oh yeah?" Blaine grins, dropping his hands to Kurt's hips as Kurt kisses at his jaw. "Tell me more."

  
 **3\. Junky Trunk**

"Wait a minute," Santana says as soon as they walk into Glee. "Where'd _that_ come from?"

"Blaine's been here since school started," Brittany says, smiling at him widely and wiggling her fingers in a wave. Sometimes Blaine gets the sneaking suspicion she has a crush on him. "I think he, like, goes here now."

"Not that," Santana says, rolling her eyes. "I'm talking about _that ass_."

"Ex _cuse_ me?" Kurt says, taking a step closer to Blaine and glaring at Santana.

"Well look at it!" Santana says. "There is an awful lot of junk going on all up in that trunk."

"There is not," Blaine says, crossing his arms across his chest and trying to sink into Kurt's side as half of the glee club tries to look at his ass.

"Oh, _hey_ ," Lauren says. "You're right. Where _did_ that come from?"

"It's the uniform pants," Puck says with a shrug. "They do nothing for anyone. Even Hummel couldn't make them look hot."

"Dude," Artie says, raising an eyebrow.

"What?" he shrugs. "It's true."

"Thank you, Puckerman," Kurt says. "I think. But could we please stop objectifying my boyfriend now?"

"Oh please, stop making this all about you," Santana says. "I'm having to completely reconsider my preconceived notions about which one of you is a great big bottom. This is a very trying time for me."

"I _weep_ for you," Kurt snaps at her.

"Okay," Blaine says fiercely, "that's enough of that. Let's all stop talking my ass." Santana rolls her eyes but keeps quiet, and everyone else rapidly loses interest. Blaine lets out a deep breath and follows Kurt to their seats.

Then he makes the mistake of turning his back to Santana to settle their bags across the back of his chair, and Santana lets out a wolf whistle.

"I mean, just _wanky_ ," Santana says once they've settled into their chairs. Kurt rolls his eyes but turns to face her, and Blaine reluctantly follows his lead. "Your ass is inspiring me, Warbler. I want to write a song about it. Not just any song. An _ode_ ," she says excitedly, waving her hand around in the air. "I've got it. It's coming to me. Quick, someone write this down. _Junky Tru-u-u-uuuunk_ ," she starts to sing. " _Big fat asssss. Does it have to be that big, just to hold all of your sass?_ "

"Santana," Kurt grits. "That's enough."

"What?" she says with a shrug. "I'm gay now, it's not homophobic of me to conclude that Blaine's ass is that big because it holds all of his fabulousness."

"Um," Blaine says, because he's genuinely at a loss of what to say to this.

"If you're so gay now why are you even _noticing_ Blaine's ass?" Quinn asks, rolling her eyes at Santana.

"I'm a lesbian, I'm not blind," Santana says.

"She's got a point," Tina says with a shrug and a scary grin that she drops as soon as Mike glares at her.

"That wasn't even original," Sam says. "You just rewrote _Trouty Mouth_. Badly."

"So? You hated that song. You practically wept like the tiny little Dutch girl that you are when I sang it. Not even Finn cried when I sang _Puffy Nips_."

"Oh yes he did," Kurt says, playing idly with one of Blaine's curls. "He still won't wear tank tops because of that line about needing a training bra."

"I'm just saying, he could borrow one of Berry's," Santana says.

"And _I'm_ just saying rewriting a song about someone else is tacky," Sam says, settling down into his chair with a pout until Mercedes pats him on the shoulder and says something into his ear that makes him grin and duck his head.

"Can we please, please stop talking about my ass?" Blaine groans, dropping his head to Kurt's shoulder.

"It's okay," Kurt whispers into his ear, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Let them look all they want. It really is a great ass, you have nothing to be ashamed of." Blaine tilts his head up, grinning at Kurt, and Kurt leans down and kisses him softly, right as Rachel and Finn bust through the doors to the choir room, not-so-subtly straightening their shirts.

"What'd we miss?" Rachel asks brightly.

"Kurt's been keeping his spare tire in Blaine's ass, or something," Brittany says with a shrug. "Santana wrote a song about it."

"Wait," Finn says, looking back and forth between Blaine and Kurt in confused horror. " _What_?"

  
 **4\. Kiddo**

"See you later, Kurt," Burt says, grabbing a baseball cap on his way out the door to go take care of something at the garage. "You too, kiddo," he adds, grinning at Blaine, and Blaine doesn't realize he's still staring at the door after Burt's gone until Kurt grabs his arm to drag him into the kitchen.

"--and you're going to learn _so much_ about the proper way to make-- Blaine, are you even listening to me?" Kurt snaps, and Blaine turns his head quickly, trying to ignore the unfamiliar but not unpleasant tight feeling in his chest. _Kurt's dad called him kiddo._

"Are you alright?" Kurt asks, voice softer and tinged with concern, and Blaine nods after a second, flashing Kurt a bright smile.

"Yeah, I'm great," Blaine says, taking Kurt's hand and squeezing. "Now teach me the proper way to make crepes, Kurt Hummel."

-

Blaine didn't even realize it would become a _thing_ for him. He tries not to dwell on his issues with his parents - specifically the way his dad always distances himself whenever Blaine talks about Kurt or gay rights or anything else that dares to imply Blaine isn't straight. Blaine's happy ignoring it, really. His parents love him and they've always done their best for him, but they're just not so comfortable with the whole gay thing and they've never been a particularly... demonstrative bunch. He never thought it was a big deal for him, but it's hard to ignore the way something in his chest twists whenever Burt calls him kiddo. Kurt would pat his cheek and tell Blaine he needs to work through his daddy issues if he knew, but Blaine can't _help_ it. It's not his fault Kurt might actually have the best dad ever.

He's not the alone in this, either. He's seen the goofy way Finn grins at Burt whenever Burt claps him on the back or tells him good job or ribs him good-naturedly. Kurt's house feels _warm_ in a way Blaine's just doesn't, like walking into a Folgers commercial or something, even when Carole's yelling at Finn for leaving his dirty clothes on the laundry room floor or Kurt and Burt are arguing over how high Kurt's boot heels have to be before they qualify as _heels_ and why Burt would have a problem with Kurt wearing heels in general. Blaine just sits back and takes it all in sometimes, watching how easy Kurt is around his dad, how he thinks nothing of tilting his head onto Burt's shoulder or giving him hugs or smacking his hand away from an extra cinnamon roll at the dinner table.

Blaine thinks he's doing a decent job of not being weird about things until, as usual, Kurt calls him out.

-

"So," Kurt says solemnly, sitting him down on the sofa after school and folding his hands in his lap. "We need to talk."

"About what?" Blaine asks, his stomach twisting up nervously as he tries to mentally catalog anything he could have done in the past few days to upset Kurt. He hadn't even brought up the Katy Perry song he wanted to sing when Mr. Schuester asked for suggestions, even if Blaine had already planned out Brittany doing the Kanye West part. It was a pretty big show of self-restraint on Blaine's part, he thinks.

"About your crush on my dad," Kurt says, taking a deep breath and then letting it out slowly. "It's not that I don't understand the appeal of older men. Goodness knows I went through my George Clooney phase after Ocean's 11 and 12, and I would gladly do anything Anderson Cooper asked of me." Blaine frowns, but he also can't really argue with that. "But you can't have a crush on my dad."

"Well that's good, because I _don't_ ," Blaine says, his voice coming out a little too high to sound entirely convincing.

"Honey, it's okay," Kurt says, taking Blaine's hands and squeezing. "We can work through this. I've been reading up on intervention tactics and we just have to try some exposure therapy. I was thinking about it, and you've never even been around when Dad and Finn have burping contests, and honestly, Blaine, you should see the man eat ribs. You'll never find him attractive again. Even Carole gets squeamish."

"Kurt," Blaine says warily, squeezing his hands. "I assure you, I do not have a crush on your father."

"Then explain the constant smitten, loving gazes you keep giving him," Kurt says.

"Fine," Blaine says, hearing the front door open as Finn clomps in. "I will. Finn!" he yells. "Please come here."

"Hey dudes," Finn says, throwing his book bag in the middle of the floor and flopping down into Burt's armchair. "What's up?"

"Kurt thinks I have a crush on Burt," Blaine tells him.

"Don't you?" Finn asks. "What, man?" Finn says, holding his hands up when Blaine glares at him. "You're always looking at him the way Rachel looks at her Barbra Streisand poster, and she loves that thing way more than me."

"Rachel looks at that poster because she _admires_ Barbra, as she should," Blaine says. "You're both just mistaking admiration for infatuation, which is particularly ironic coming from you, Finn, because last week when we were watching that game and Burt ruffled your hair for calling the right play, I thought you were going to propose."

"Dude, he's my _step-dad_ ," Finn grumps, leaning back in the chair, but Blaine can see the way his face starts to turn pink. "It's just nice to be appreciated sometimes, okay?"

"That's what I'm trying to say, Finn," Blaine says slowly, ignoring the way Kurt rolls his eyes at them. "Don't you ever get this feeling when you're around him, where your chest goes all tight and you feel so _happy_ and--"

"Wait, seriously? You too?" Finn asks, a little in awe.

"Oh my god, I can't be here for this," Kurt groans, standing up. "He is too old for you. _Both_ of you. Just so you know."

-

Kurt keeps poking at it. He keeps poking and poking and nothing Blaine can say can get him to stop, until they're at Blaine's house one weekend, rehearsing a duet for Glee, and Blaine's dad walks in. It isn't even a romantic song - they're sitting at either end of the sofa, facing each other and singing lines of _Anything You Can Do_ back and forth, but his dad just-- freezes. He stands there, stock still, and then clears his throat and tells Blaine to make sure his friend head homes before dinner.

He's introduced Kurt to his parents before. More than once, and as his boyfriend. Kurt, thankfully, doesn't say anything - he just hugs Blaine extra tight before he leaves and kisses him, soft and sweet, in the doorway.

-

"I'm sorry," Kurt says quietly a few days later when they're lying side by side in Kurt's bed.

"For what?" Blaine asks, even though he already knows.

"You know for what," Kurt says, threading their fingers together.

"It's not a big deal. He's just not as cool with things as your dad is. He's not mean or anything, it just--"

"Still kind of hurts?" Kurt finishes for him, kissing Blaine's knuckles. "My dad isn't always perfect--"

"I know," Blaine says tightly. He really doesn't feel like hearing about all the ways Burt sucks too right now.

"You didn't let me finish," Kurt says softly. "He isn't perfect but he tries and I know that he loves me more than anything, even if he doesn't understand sometimes. I'm sorry I made fun of you for wanting that too."

"It's okay," Blaine says, smiling at him and hoping Kurt can't see that he's feeling a little stupidly emotional. But Kurt does, because he's Kurt, and he pulls Blaine close and squeezes at his waist. "Besides," he says, once he's settled on Kurt's chest, "this will make a great story to tell people in college. 'Did you know that one time Kurt accused me of being hot for his dad?'"

"Oh shut _up_ ," Kurt laughs, smacking at Blaine's shoulder. "What was I supposed to think?"

"Oh, I don't know," Blaine says. "Maybe _anything_ but that I was attracted to your dad? It's kind of a weird assumption for you to make in the first place you know."

"Gross!" Kurt yelps. "Blaine, that's my _dad_."

"I'm just saying," Blaine grins. "You're the one who jumped to the conclusion."

"Gross," Kurt repeats, grabbing a pillow from behind him and whacking Blaine squarely in the face.

" _Hey_ ," Blaine says, yanking it from Kurt's hands and scurrying up to his knees so he can get enough leverage to really smack him.

"Blaine, don't," Kurt hisses, "those are silk and filled with down and you're going to rip them."

"You started it," Blaine reminds him, laughing breathlessly as Kurt tries to wrestle it out of his hands without wrinkling it.

-

"Hey guys, Carole ordered-- what the hell happened here?"

"Nothing!" Blaine says quickly, trying to hide the ruined pillow behind his back as Kurt collapses on the feather-covered bed, laughing.

"Right," Burt says, raising an eyebrow. "That pillow just explode by itself, then, kiddo?"

"No," Blaine says, unable to stop himself from smiling. "It exploded when I hit Kurt in the face with it."

" _Dad_!" Kurt says when Burt laughs. "You're supposed to defend me."

"Right!" Burt says, clearing his throat and widening his stance as he crosses his arms over his chest. "Blaine," he says solemnly, "if you ever hit my kid with a pillow again... aim for the legs, he's got crummy balance."

"Okay, unfair," Kurt says, hopping from the bed and scattering feathers everywhere while Blaine laughs. "You are fired as my father."

"Is that all it took?" Burt asks. "Buddy, I have been trying to get you to fire me for _years_. Who knew all it took was siding with your boyfriend?"

Blaine looks down at his feather covered lap, hiding his grin as Kurt rolls his eyes and follows Burt out of the room, talking about dinner. He hauls himself up, brushing feathers off of his sweater and stepping out the door, but he pauses when he hears Burt say, "Hey, where's all this coming from? Everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Kurt says, and Blaine peeks around the corner to see them standing halfway down the stairs, Kurt's arms around Burt's neck. "You're just an awesome dad, is all."

"Well yeah, I already knew that, but why are you telling me now?" Burt asks as Kurt pulls away. Blaine's stomach twists nervously; he knows Burt wouldn't be weird about it and Blaine has already hinted about his dad to Burt anyway, but still, the thought of Kurt telling him makes Blaine nervous.

"Because I only tell you once a year or so, and now's that time," Kurt says airily. "I don't want you getting a big head."

"Can't get much bigger," Burt says, squeezing Kurt's shoulder. Blaine makes sure to step more loudly than usual so they'll know he's coming and they both turn to smile at him as he starts down the stairs.

"Might as well turn back around," Burt tells him, "because both of you are cleaning those feathers up before I feed you. And you'd better hurry up, too, because we only ordered two pizzas and you know how Finn eats."

  
 **5\. Triangles**

Blaine's been at McKinley for three whole weeks before he has his first real run in with Sue Sylvester. He's hurrying to meet Kurt in the lunchroom before all the seats are taken when Coach Sylvester stops him with a palm to his chest.

"My god," she says, her face drawing up in a pained expression. "It's like Schuester tried to clone himself but something went horribly wrong."

"Excuse me?" Blaine asks, smiling as politely as he possible when Coach Sylvester is sneering at him.

" _Triangles_ ," she hisses. "I look at your face and all I can see is the hypotenuse of _horror_."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Blaine says, fidgeting uncomfortably. Everyone's walking past them like this is nothing out of the ordinary and Blaine's starting to get nervous. Not to mention he's going to miss out on the tots if she keeps him much longer.

"I mean your eyebrows look like your face was trying to solve an equation and failed _miserably_ ," Sue says. "Dear lord, I could launch a tiny ship from your forehead and it would be lost in those Bermuda-brows, never to be seen again."

"I... okay?" Blaine says, not entirely sure how he's supposed to react to this.

"Out of my sight, Triangles," Sue says, waving her hand down the hallway and then turning on her heel, stomping down the hallway and shoving a freshman into a locker.

-

"Where've you been?" Kurt asks when Blaine sits down.

"Coach Sylvester is kind of scary," Blaine says, kissing Kurt's cheek in greeting and then frowning down at his lunch tray when he sets it on the table. "And I missed the tots."

"I've got you covered," Mercedes says, turning her tray around so Blaine can reach the little pile of tots she left for him.

"You should be genuinely touched," Kurt informs him, and Sam nods in agreement.

"I am," Blaine says, grinning at Mercedes and holding his hand up for a high five until she indulges him. "How are they so good?" Blaine asks as he pops a tot in his mouth. Tater tots might be one of the best things about being back in public school. Blaine's been keeping a mental list with Kurt firmly at number one, but tator tots are definitely edging out not having to wear a tie every day.

"I don't know," Mercedes says. "It's magic. They're like tiny potato nuggets fried in pure joy."

"You're a tiny potato nugget fried in pure joy," Sam says, grinning crookedly at her, and Blaine can't bite back his _aww_. Kurt rolls his eyes but he can't hide his grin either, and Blaine knocks their knees together under the table.

"Kurt," Blaine says, turning to him once Sam and Mercedes have started feeding each other tator tots, "can I ask you a question?"

"Always," Kurt says, turning toward him and drawing his shoulders back, grimacing.

"... Why are you making that face?" Blaine asks, his hand jumping up to his eyebrows self-consciously. Oh god. Kurt knows. Kurt can't stand to look at him full on because of his eyebrows. How has he never noticed this?

"I'm smiling at you reassuringly," Kurt says, his face dropping back into something not resembling pain. "I was trying to be polite, Blaine."

"Oh," Blaine says, letting out a sigh of relief. Right. Kurt's not great at smiling unless it happens naturally, which Blaine finds utterly _adorable_ , but it can get kind of unnerving when he's not expecting it.

"Your question?" Kurt asks.

"Oh, right," Blaine says, his hand stroking over his eyebrows again and freezing when, oh god, he can feel the _point_. Kurt's looking at him strangely, and he's pretty sure Sam and Mercedes have stopped mid-tot to stare with him. Blaine takes a deep breath and lets it out all in a rush as he asks, "Are my eyebrows triangles?"

"Totally, dude," Sam says immediately. "It's awesome. They remind me of those little slices of cheese they use at Subway."

"Sam," Mercedes hisses.

"Oh," Blaine says. "Oh." Oh god, his eyebrows are cheese triangles.

"What Sam _means_ is that they're very distinctive," Kurt says.

"Kurt, last week you told Rachel that her unicorn sweater was distinctive and then said, 'If distinctive means deplorable' as soon as she walked away."

"Well, Blaine, that sweater was _hideous_ ," Kurt says. "Where is this coming from? Did Coach Sylvester say something to you?"

"She said tiny boats would get lost in my triangle eyebrows, and also a lot of really insulting things about math."

"Oh _honey_ ," Kurt says, scooting his chair closer so he can wrap his arm around Blaine's waist. "You really can't listen to anything she says. She told _me_ I was pear-shaped, for goodness sake, and you've seen what my ass looks like in skinny jeans."

"Yes, I have," Blaine says, his eyes glazing over for a second.

"We _all_ have," Mercedes says, snickering. "But he's right, Blaine. I mean, Coach Sylvester threw _sticks_ at me once. No idea why. She just did. You can't take this stuff seriously."

"She still thinks I'm a girl," Sam adds. "I even cut my hair and everything, but she still wrapped a tape measure around my waist then gave me a Cheerio uniform and told me to lose 20 pounds by tryouts."

"Wait, seriously?" Kurt asks. "Oh my god, you have to do it."

"Do not encourage him," Mercedes says, rolling her eyes. "He's already tried the uniform on like five times."

"Has he?" Kurt asks, the interest clear in his voice, and Blaine picks his head up and glares, even though-- okay, yeah, it's not the _worst_ image. "What?" Kurt asks innocently when he catches Blaine's look.

"Back off my man," Mercedes says, happily shoving another tator tot into Sam's mouth. "Don't get greedy."

"I have no use for Sam," Kurt says, pointedly leaning into Blaine's side.

"Hey," Sam says, sounding both confused and defensive, but Blaine tunes him out when Kurt starts to whisper in his ear.

"Besides," Kurt says quietly, breath warm over Blaine's ear, "I've always been a sucker for prominent brows. I'm not kidding, either, my first crush was Josh Hartnett after I saw _The Faculty_."

"Yeah?" Blaine asks, smiling at him.

"Yes," Kurt assures him, darting up quickly and kissing one of Blaine's eyebrows. He's blushing when he pulls back, and Blaine reaches under the table and squeezes at one of Kurt's thighs before he takes his hand.

  
 **6\. Mon Petit Chou**

Blaine had decided a long time ago that he just wasn't one for pet names. He'd tried to imagine it when he was younger, holding a guy's hand and calling him sweetheart or baby or honey, and it just never connected in his head. He couldn't picture being that kind of a boyfriend.

Which is why he was so surprised when, the night before Kurt left for New York, he'd found himself grabbing onto Kurt's hips and saying, "But I'm going to miss you, baby," against Kurt's lips.

"Baby, huh?" Kurt had said, grinning at him. "I like it. That can stay."

Blaine likes it too, now, even though it had taken some getting used to. Kurt had no such problem. He's been all about pet names from the start - honey and sweetie and once, disastrously, pookie. There's one he uses more than the others, though - something sweet-sounding and French. Blaine knows that _mon petit chou_ means he's Kurt's little _something_ , but, well. Dalton was big on Latin, and Blaine is actually frustratingly bad at languages so he hadn't ever bothered trying to learn anything else.

Besides, it's kind of nice, not knowing. He's thought about looking it up once or twice but it feels almost like it would be taking the mystery away. Right now he could be Kurt's little anything. He doesn't want to google it and find out he's Kurt's little toenail or something.

-

"And that is why I will never again lend my talents to the Lima Community Players. They're all a bunch of ungrateful amateurs who wouldn't know real talent if it slapped them in the face," Rachel huffs. She's been recounting the dramatic (and long) tale of how she walked out on a production of Annie when she was 13 because the director wouldn't take her staging notes.

"Fascinating, Rachel," Kurt says dryly. "What are they going to do without you?"

"Obviously you haven't seen any of their post-2007 productions, because then you would have answered your own question," Rachel says.

"Right," Kurt says. "I'm going to go to the restroom. Blaine?" Blaine slides out of the booth and gives Kurt his hand to help him up. "You are _such_ a gentleman, _mon petit chou_ ," Kurt says with a grin, squeezing Blaine's hand before he turns to head to the restroom. He throws Blaine a look over his shoulder, and Blaine's already sitting back down before he realizes that maybe that was a hint.

Crap, was that a hint? What if Blaine could be making out with Kurt in a Breadstix's bathroom stall right now instead of staring blankly after him while Finn and Rachel repeat his name over and over and over and--

"Yes!" Blaine says, shaking his head and trying to tune back into reality. Kurt probably didn't mean that. He'd probably think it was weird if Blaine just followed him into the bathroom.

"What did Kurt just call you, dude?" Finn asks. "I've heard it before, but I thought he was just sneezing."

"It's French," Rachel says, nodding sagely and patting Finn's arm.

"What's it mean?" Finn asks her.

"My little... Blaine, would you like to tell him?" Rachel asks, looking at him expectantly.

"I don't actually know," Blaine says with a shrug. "And I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell me, Rachel, it's kind of an inside thing."

"Whisper it," Finn says, poking at Rachel's shoulder.

"I can't," Rachel says tightly. "I don't actually know what it means."

"But you said--"

"Look, Finn, I have plans to master several languages at some point in my life, but right now my priority is passing Mr. Schuester's frankly shoddy Spanish III class with enough proficiency that I can keep up with the language courses I'll have to take in college, and then I'll need to work on mastering several different British dialects to increase my chances of success on the West End, okay?" Rachel snaps.

"Whoa," Finn says, holding up his hands. "I was just asking."

"I'm sorry," Rachel says with a sigh. "I've been under a lot of stress to succeed lately. I have to have a flawless senior year if I want any chance of getting into Juilliard."

"I know," Finn says, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and kissing her on the cheek. "I'm totally here for you. Do you need to make more audition tapes? Because I know I broke your video camera last time but Puck said we can borrow his as long as Lauren doesn't have plans for it."

Blaine is really, really starting to wish he'd followed Kurt to the bathroom.

-

Blaine doesn't actually find out what it means until right before Christmas break. They're all hanging out in the choir room after school, rehearsing for the Christmas concert Rachel had booked them at the Jewish Community Center. Blaine's still not entirely sure how that's going to work out, but Rachel swears it's legit. He's sitting beside Kurt at the piano, plucking out _Baby It's Cold Outside_ and reminiscing.

"I still think we should have gotten this song instead of Finn and Rachel," Kurt grumps, shooting a glare at the corner of the room where Rachel's coaching Finn and Sam through _The Little Drummer Boy_. "We sound amazing on it."

"I lied, you know," Blaine says quietly, letting his fingers fall from the keys. "About the show."

"I know," Kurt says. "King's Island has been closed for years, Blaine. You're lucky I was too smitten to call you on it."

"I didn't know how to just be around you back then. I always made up the stupidest reasons to spend time with you and couldn't figure out why I kept doing it. It was all very confusing."

"Yes, well, you should have tried being me," Kurt says, raising an eyebrow.

"I know," Blaine groans, tipping his head onto Kurt's shoulder. "I made it up to you, though, right?" he asks, batting his eyelashes.

"Don't do that," Kurt says. "It's not cute."

"Yes it is," Blaine says happily.

"Yes, it is," Kurt sighs. "But the fact that you know it is _dangerous_ , _mon petit chou_." Blaine smiles up at him, pressing a kiss to his jaw, and Kurt's tilting his head down to kiss Blaine when Brittany taps him on the shoulder.

"Yes, Brittany?" Kurt asks tersely.

"Why did you just call Blaine your little cabbage?" she asks.

"He didn't, Brit," Blaine says automatically, but then he feels Kurt go stiff beside him. "You didn't, right?" Blaine says, sitting up and narrowing his eyes at Kurt.

"I... might have," Kurt says, avoiding his eyes. "I think the real question here is how Brittany knows French."

"Our TV's been broken for like years," Brittany says with a shrug. "Lord Tubbington changed the language to French and then hid the remote forever ago."

"And you learned French."

" _Oui, un peu_ ," Brittany says. "Is cabbage, like, short for cabbage patch doll?" She gives Blaine a considering look. "I can see that."

" _Hey_ ," Blaine says, glaring at both of them. "It's _not_ short for cabbage patch doll, right?" Blaine asks Kurt, and Kurt huffs.

"Of course it isn't, Blaine," he says. "It's a very common French term of endearment. Besides, you call me 'baby' so you officially have no room to talk."

"I thought you liked 'baby'!" Blaine says accusingly, his face heating up. 'Baby' usually slipped out when Blaine was thinking with other parts of his body that weren't his brain.

"What are you two talking about?" Puck speaks up from behind them. "There's nothing wrong with 'baby,' right, baby?" Puck asks, turning to Lauren.

"Of course not, sugarlumps," Lauren says, petting at his mohawk.

"Oh god," Blaine says. "Puck's defending me. What's become of my life?"

"Oh whatever, Junky Trunk," Santana says from where she's been sulking in the top row and eating candy canes in increasingly pornographic ways all day long. "You refused my brilliance so now you have to take what you can get."

"But cabbage?" Blaine says, largely ignoring Santana in favor of turning back to Kurt. "Really?" Blaine supposes it's better than 'my little toenail,' at least, but he doesn't even _like_ cabbage.

"You know I've been a Francophile from a very young age," Kurt says tightly. "If my terms of endearment aren't _good enough_ for you, then maybe you should just--"

"I know, I know," Blaine says, deflating a little once he realizes what Kurt means and smiling softly at Kurt as he takes his hands. "Your mom read you _Madeline_ and you tried to make her dress out of your sheets and got in trouble but then your dad bought you a hat just like hers and you still have it in your hope chest."

"You remember all that?" Kurt asks quietly after a few seconds.

"Of course I do," Blaine says, reaching out to cup Kurt's face. Kurt's eyes flutter closed and he leans his cheek against Blaine's palm, and Blaine just has to kiss him, everyone else in the room be damned.

Kurt sighs happily as soon as their lips meet, and not even Brittany's squeal of, "Awww, _bisous_!" can distract them.

-

"How long do we have?" Blaine asks breathlessly as Kurt kisses across his jaw.

"At least another hour," Kurt mumbles against his skin. "Finn's at Rachel's and Carole dragged my dad out shopping. Without me there to guide her who knows how long it will take."

"I'm hoping for at least a week," Blaine says with a grin, sliding his hand up the back of Kurt's shirt and petting at the unbelievably soft skin there, liking the way it makes Kurt press even closer. "Maybe a month. I could totally make out with you for a month, Kurt Hummel."

"I couldn't," Kurt says, unbuttoning Blane's polo so he can kiss down his throat. "My lips would be horribly chapped; they'd never recover."

"I'd make that sacrifice," Blaine says, pulling Kurt up so he can get at his mouth. "It'd be worth it for you."

"You're so sweet," Kurt grins, leaning down to kiss him. Blaine arches up under him, trying to get closer, and he can feel the way Kurt's still grinning against his mouth.

"Stop laughing at me," Blaine mumbles, kissing him deeper.

"I'm not laughing," Kurt says, his voice rough in a way that never fails to make Blaine's stomach twist up hot and tight. "I love it when you get all desperate like this."

"It's your fault," Blaine says, shivering as Kurt gives up on the buttons and pushes his shirt up instead, slowly kissing his way down Blaine's stomach. Kurt's ridiculously talented with his mouth and he always drags his teeth when he gets to the sensitive skin right under Blaine's bellybutton, because he knows it makes Blaine's breath hitch and his whole body draw up tight, squirming when Kurt licks over the red marks from his teeth. Blaine had been surprised at first at how dirty Kurt could be when he wants to, how much he enjoyed doing this to Blaine, but it hadn't taken him long to get used to the way Kurt nips at his skin, the way he likes to scratch his fingers through the hair low on Blaine's stomach, nails pressing in and making Blaine arch up and hiss.

" _Kurt_ ," Blaine groans, reaching down for Kurt's shoulders to try and pull him back up when Kurt starts sucking over Blaine's hipbone. "We shouldn't-- get back up here, I want to _kiss_ you," Blaine says, embarrassingly close to whining, and Kurt grins widely and lets Blaine pull him up.

"I wasn't kidding about loving it when you get all desperate, sorry," Kurt mumbles against Blaine's mouth, not sounding sorry at all, and he tilts his head and kisses Blaine hard, lips moving roughly with Blaine's. Making out is one of Blaine's favorite things, and even if he couldn't do it for weeks straight he would certainly love to try. Kurt moans softly when Blaine tilts his hips up and sucks at Blaine's bottom lip in that way that drives him crazy, shifting his hips down against Blaine's. Blaine gasps and lets his legs fall open so Kurt can settle more heavily on top of him, and then he clutches at Kurt's back when Kurt immediately takes advantage of it, grinding his hips down slowly against Blaine's. Kurt can be _really_ dirty when he wants to be.

Blaine doesn't even realize how hard he is until Kurt bites on his lip and slides his hand down the outside of Blaine's thigh, gripping his leg and hitching it up so he can get a better angle, and Blaine feels his stomach start to draw up tightly. Fuck, they really can't do this right now - not unless Kurt wants to lend him a pair of pants again.

"Kurt," Blaine gasps out. "Baby, come on, you've got to-- I can't--" Kurt pauses, smiling softly down at Blaine.

"Baby, huh?" Kurt says.

"It just slipped out," Blaine groans, hand still gripping the back of Kurt's shirt tightly.

"It's okay," Kurt says, leaning down to whisper in his ear as he rolls his hips back down against Blaine's, his breath warm over Blaine's ear when he talks in a way that makes Blaine shiver. "I've decided 'baby' can stay."

"Excellent," Blaine says, grabbing onto Kurt's hips and trying to decide if he wants to hold Kurt still or help him keep moving. "I will happily be your little cabbage if you'll be my baby."

"Oh _Blaine_ ," Kurt sighs, collapsing down on top of him. "Now you've ruined things."

"Oh come on," Blaine says, turning on his side and hovering over Kurt. "You know you love me, I know you care," Blaine says, sing-song.

"Stop it," Kurt says, his jaw tight and mouth thin. He is so, so close to laughing that Blaine can't help but push it.

"Just shout whenever," Blaine sings, pressing his hands over his chest and looking down at Kurt earnestly, "And I'll be there!"

"I'm about to give you a much less complimentary nickname," Kurt says warningly, but the corners of his mouth are starting to quirk up the way they do when he can't quite hold back a smile.

"And I was like _baby_ , baby, baby, _ohhhh_ ," Blaine sings, and Kurt finally loses it, gasping out a laugh and tugging Blaine down on top of him.

"Enough," Kurt says breathlessly. "Enough. There's only so much Bieber a boy can take, you know."

"Wait, wait," Blaine says, pouting at him. "You have to let me finish! You can't just cut the Biebs off in the middle like that, Kurt."

"Yes, I can," Kurt says, leaning up and kissing him, sudden and deep and dirty in a way that's entirely effective at making Blaine forget all about finishing his song for Kurt. "I can think of far better ways for us to spend our time right now, Blaine Warbler, and if you pick Justin Bieber over making out you're going to have to go be someone else's little cabbage."

"I wouldn't dream of it, baby," Blaine says solemnly, kissing Kurt's grin right off of his mouth.

  



End file.
